Get A Room Already
by anfiasco
Summary: Super best friends are really, really, reeeally hot for each other. A collection of unrelated one shots about Kyle and Stan, ranging in length and maturity, from relationship struggles to smut. MA chapters (x).
1. Kinda Pathetic

**Chars: Stan, Craig, Token, Tweek  
Content: Stan's got a bad codependence issue.  
Length: About 1000 words**

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Stan sighed loud enough to be considered obnoxious, bored and tired and god knows what else. Probably other things along those lines. A thesaurus might be helpful, maybe a dictionary, just to find that one word to perfectly describe how awfully discontent he was.

Sitting on Craig's ratted couch, with nothing to do and ignoring the drone of endless circling conversation, Stan pulled his phone out of his pocket. He knew it was rude, but he'd passed the point of caring. Flipping open the lock screen, absentmindedly waiting for something to capture his attention, he slumped over against the armrest.

So, so bored.

He would rather be anywhere else.

Except for, like. His house. Or the dentist, where Kyle was. He hated the dentist's office. And he wasn't exactly-

"Marsh."

Actually, he wished Kyle were here.

"Stan, wake up, stupid."

"What?" A mumble, slightly annoyed.

"He isn't listening, nevermind..." Craig rolled his eyes, fed up with even trying to get the boy involved. "What the hell, just proves my point. Tweek, could you grab me a cold one..?"

Stan's interest was piqued now.

"No, no I'm listening. What is it?"

"No, nah, it's nothing really." Token shrugged from his seat on the couch to the right of Stan, biting back a grin. "Really, forget about it."

Stan glared.

"What?!"

Tweek giggled, handing a canned beer to his friend.

"Craig was- he was- Craig was asking whether y-you checked in with Kyle yet."

Stan was about to answer with a 'yes' before it clicked that he was being poked at.

"Come on, it's not that weird," the dark haired boy tried, frowning slightly. "Besides, I mean-"

"When's the last time you've gone, like, an hour without calling him?" Craig rolled his eyes, glancing at Token with a smirk.

"Today! It's been an hour since I came to your shit house, hasn't it?!"

"Aaand, what about text?" Token smiled, crossing his legs.

"W-well- I mean, not..."

The group of boys laughed, three voices causing a whole lot more noise than expected. Token tried to keep quieter, but burst out into laughter again as soon as he made eye contact with his two friends sitting on the floor.

Stan's cheeks flushed red, quickly stuffing his phone back into his pocket, embarrassed. The last text he had sent Kyle had been twelve minutes earlier. He'd been about to send another, in all honesty.

"It's not that funny!"

That only made it worse.

Stan tried to protest, face growing redder by the second, finally giving up and tucked his knees up against his chest.

"He's busy today, hot shot, you're stuck with us for now..." Craig said after collecting himself. "Hey, don't pout about it. Jeez."

"I'm not pouting."

"Y-y-yeah, Stanley, you are..." Tweek frowned, concerned.

He was about to snap back a rude retort, but couldn't bring himself to yell at Tweek. Instead, he looked away from under dark fringe, pulling his knees closer to his chest.

"I just like to know he's okay-"

"Every five minutes on the dot?" Token hummed.

"Stop, just fuckin' stop, Marsh..." Craig barely held back a snicker, throwing his hands in the air. "Don't make it even worse."

"You're all assholes..." Stan grumbled, lacing his fingers over his knees. "Fucking dickwads..."

"Wow, man. I'm genuinely hurt." Craig rolled his eyes, taking a drink.

"I-I think it's, I think it's cute," Tweek beamed.

"Your cute little thing with Kyle is kind of extreme, you've gotta admit," Token said with a good-mannered smile.

"We're not a 'cute little thing', man-"

"You're only boyfriends if you're fucking," Craig cut in. "You're not. As I hear."

"That's not true!" Stan flushed red again, glaring at the boy sitting at his feet.

"The fucking or the boyfriend part?"

"The we can't be boyfriends unless were fucking part!"

"So. You aren't screwing."

Stan groaned, impossibly nervous, burying his face in his arms so his words came out muffled.

"No, we haven't done that yet."

"So..? What are you doing then?" Token pressed.

"The same as usual. Nothing's changed, really..."

"W-well, shit, it's not like you could. You could, y-y'know, be much closer than you a-lready are. Jesus."

"Yeah, what he said. You're glued at the hip an' sat on each others laps even when you weren't dating."

"Right..." Stan sighed. "It's just. He's really important to me, right? Kyles been a constant in my life. And it's been like this for so long, I don't know how... to ask for anything different." He trailed off as he spoke, ending in a near whisper as he felt his confidence dim. Biting his lip, he didn't look up, sure he'd be laughed at again.

But instead there was a weighted silence, dragging on from a moment to two, and finally Craig sighed.

"You're pathetic."

"Yeah."

"S-sorry dude, it's true."

"But!" Token started, smiling as he reached over to pat the boy's shoulder, "I'm sure Kyle's the same right now, man. You've just got to make the first move; one of you will eventually."

Stan sighed.

"Yeah, I hope so."

"So, like, you don't even jerk each other off or anything?"

"Shut the fuck up, Craig."

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	2. Saturday Morning

**Chars: Stan, Kyle  
****Content: Fluff. Anorexia mention. Stan is tired and Kyle is not.  
****Length: Under 1000 words.**

**A/N: reviews or prompts would be fantastic ~ enjoy !**

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Kyle sighed. Stretching his arms up so his back curved, looking over his shoulder to watch himself do so in the mirror, he set his jaw. Thinking. Stretched again, arching forward and down now, encountering more difficulty in watching this time.

_"Fuck,"_ he muttered, just under his breath, but the sentiment was there. _I'm so fucking skinny_, he meant, facing the mirror and enacting another stretch; one that enunciated the ridges of his ribs, pulled the curve of his belly up, and his hips down. It was obvious he hadn't noticed this aspect until just recently.

The redhead frowned. Dissatisfied. Standing there in front of Shelley's full length mirror, dressed in used boxers, knowing he should probably leave his best friend's sister's room. Stan didn't have a full length mirror, though.

"Dude..? What the hell are you doing...?"

Kyle jumped, a shiver running up his bare freckled skin before he relaxed. Who else could it be? They were the only two home in any case.

"Uh, sorry. Shelley's not here, so-"

"Ky..." Stan yawned, leaning heavily against the door frame. "It's, like, seven in the morning. On a Saturday. What th' hell."

The boy nearly hit his head on the wall as he slumped slightly, sleep overtaking him for a fraction of a second. He blinked, slow as if his eyelids were so heavy it was hard to keep them even half open.

Kyle almost laughed at the sight, but kept it down to a muffled snicker.

"Shut up," Stan smirked.

"Sorry. I didn't want to wake you up, you're always cranky."

"I'm not cranky," Stan grinned, loopy and half-conscious. His forearm against the door frame to keep himself upright, he asked again. "What are you doing?"

Kyle frowned.

"Ah, nothing really." He looked back to the mirror once again, noting his pale features and light build with faint disdain. "I haven't seen myself, like, _all_ of myself before."

"Checking yourself out?" Stan hummed, biting his lip. Slurring his words, tired mannerisms making him seem almost drunk.

"No, just... I'm really fucking skinny, is all."

"Well, yeah. You always have been, baby."

"Yeah, but. This skinny? Am I anorexic, you think?"

"Oh _come on_, no fucking way," the other boy groaned, finally coming off his crutch of the door frame to cross his arms. "You're just saying that cause Cartman did. If you were anorexic, I would know."

Kyle laughed, flattening the palm of a hand against his stomach.

"You'd probably know before I did, too."

"Exactly."

Stan smiled, wide and warm, tilting his head to the side.

"Nice view?" Kyle grinned.

"Yeah." After a moment he shook his head, clearing his throat- "I'd come in for you but I'm not allowed in there."

"You're fucking joking."

"Shelley would know if I stepped one foot in here, man, I'm not risking my life this early in the morning." He yawned again, despite gaining some more awake awareness. "Come back to bed, okay?"

"Really persuasive there." Kyle bit back a smile. "Reeeal romantic."

But despite his words he still followed the suggestion, glancing back one last time before stepping lightly across the room. Half worried that he might have left some sort of trace he'd been there, the redhead walked faster.

Stan caught him around the hips, skinny hips Kyle noted, and nuzzled his face into the curve of the other's neck. A tight hug, breath against the redhead's ear.

"You're perfect, okay? Do you really think you're not?"

"It's just. I haven't really noticed before now."

"You're perfect."

"Staaaan-_ley_."

"Hmmm-_mm_," was the reply with the same inflection. Not to mock, merely affectionate.

Kyle sighed, returning the fond actions by ruffling his hands into the other boy's hair. Just happy with standing there, the pointless fawning over each other had been a standard for years. Standing in the hallway on a lazy Saturday morning, wondering whether they should go back to sleep, impossibly content with where they stood now.

Unfortunately, Stan was close to falling asleep on Kyle's shoulder.

"Stan?"

No reply this time, just light, level breathing against the other's ear.

"Come on..." the redhead laughed, wrapping his arm around his friend's waist in order to guide him back to his room. "You're hopeless."

A low hum.

"I was in the mood, too."

Another hum, longer this time, and Stan mumbled without opening his eyes.

"Too early."

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	3. Confession Plans

**Chars: Kenny, Kyle  
Content: emotion vomit. Kyle's figuring out to confess to his one and only.  
Length: About 500 words**

**A/N: Reviews would be lovely~ maybe suggestions for prompts! Enjoy!**

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"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying, she doesn't understand you like I do," Kyle shrugged, thinking hard before he spoke. "And I think you know it, too."

"Well, yeah."

Kyle perked up. Maybe this wouldn't go so badly with Stan after all.

"So, then why are you even _thinking_ about asking out Wendy?" he pressed on.

"Where are you going with this?"

"I love you, is what."

"I know that- Kyle_, _he_ knows _that already_-_"

He wanted to reprimand the other for breaking character, but held his tongue. Kenny was doing him a favor.

"Yeah- yeah, but I also want you to kiss me on the mouth."

"You two've done that before."_  
_

"Neither of us remember it," the redhead hissed, crossing his arms, frustrated. This wasn't going at all as planned. "Fine, uh- what about this. I'll make this simple. There's this guy I really like. You know him. I want him to fuck me. That guy is you."

"No, no don't say that to him!"

"Why not?!"

"He'll vomit," Kenny sighed, giving up their act to flop backwards onto their friend's bed. "Or something worse. He could _die."_

"He wouldn't die," Kyle scoffed in reply, rolling his eyes. He sat down next to the blond, retiring the roleplay to lay back with his hands behind his head. "Not from embarrassment, anyways." _Or resentment, _Kyle thought with a slump to his mood.

"You'd be surprised what you can die of, sweetheart."

"Whatever..."

Kenny got comfortable, sinking into the mattress, sucking in their cheeks and making sounds with their mouth. Bored. After a moment, they spoke blatantly straightforward.

"You're so fucked."

"God, I know..." the redhead groaned, knotting his fingers into his hair. "Trust me. You have no idea how long I've been trying to plan this."

"I think I've got an idea." Kenny almost laughed, but realized they really, really shouldn't considering the circumstance. "You have to do this before he asks Wendy out again, though. Are you sure he's going through with it?"

"He had this _look. _You had to have been there... he's up for it now, I can tell he wasn't kidding." Although it was great his best friend had worked up the nerve to talk to her again, even ask her out again after years, he couldn't have been more upset. He sighed again.

The two laid in lazy silence for a minute, tracing patterns on the cracks in Kyle's bedroom ceiling.

Kenny bit their lip.

"I don't get it."

"Get what?"

"Why _now. _What changed, like, why NOW does Stan suddenly like her again? The two haven't talked in forever."

"I don't know..." Kyle covered his face with his hands, a wave of unexpected emotion flowing over him. "Fuck. This is hard."

"You'll get it eventually," Kenny reassured the boy, smiling to the ceiling. "In the spur of the moment, you'll know what to say, I'm sure of it."

"I hope you're right," the other mumbled, thankful for the encouragement but not exactly convinced.

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	4. Strung Out (x)

**Chars: Kyle, Stan  
Content: Bathrooms aren't the best place to get hot n heavy. Pretty smutty, actually like Rly smutty ngl  
Length: Over 1500 words.**

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"K-Kyle, Kyle... Wait..."

It would have been obvious what was going on if anyone happened to walk in to the boys bathroom, even though the two students had locked themselves in the handicap stall. The locked door didn't bring them as much safety as they would have liked to believe.

"K- _mmph-_"

It was no good; the redhead wasn't one for patience, that was obvious enough as he seemed to ignore Stan's protests entirely, silencing him with a rough kiss. Reaching up to grab the other boy by the hair, sloppy yet purposeful, Kyle tried his best to stay right-minded enough to remember and follow what steps he intended to take.

He'd planned it out during English: contemplating the best place not to be disturbed, which class he'd miss and what excuse he'd give, and what to do.

But as it turned out, as soon as he'd taken hold of his friend's hand in the hallway, his mind had fogged over and he'd forgotten all the careful planning. The nearest place had been the bathroom; not ideal, but it would do.

And Stan had no idea what Kyle was thinking of doing in a handicap stall; all he could think was how he was running out of air but couldn't really manage to pull away to breathe.

And how he was kind of fine with that.

Stan finally gasped against the others mouth, coughing slightly as he tried to gain some distance. Wiping the edges of his mouth, he breathed heavily as the redhead tried to pull him in again.

"Just- just _stop_ for a second," Stan tried, regaining his breath, shaking his head. "Dude, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Kyle made a face, stern and out of character. "Do you want to do this or not?"

"Do what? I mean, kissing is fine e- _whoa_, whoa Ky what are you doing?!"

The redhead had unzipped his jeans with the same set look on his face, pulling them down over his hips without hesitation.

"Were in the bathroom, what are you thinking?!"

_I'm not even thinking,_ Kyle thought, blushing pink. He grabbed his friend's collar with one hand, pulling him down so he could whisper against his mouth.

_"Stan."_ He started, one hand palming himself through his underwear, obvious enough for the other boy to see. "We haven't done anything for six days. And I can't- I cant fucking come by myself anymore," he tried not to whine.

Stan was mesmerized, shivering as Kyle continued to breathe against his lips, hot air intermingling.

"It's all your fucking fault, Stanley. And I've been good, I did my best to- to handle myself, but now I'm at my limit and if you don't fucking get me off _right now_ I swear to god Stan I fucking _swear_ I'll go insane."

"...It's that bad?" the taller boy moaned, burying his face against Kyle's neck, helplessly turned on yet still concerned. "Fuck, I'm so sorry... I didn't mean to..."

"Don't say sorry, just- _fuck,_ just-!" Kyle hissed, pressing his hips forward, at his wits end.

Stan leaned down to press a heated kiss to the others lips, and another, and another- one hand threading into curls while he worked off his own pants with the other hand.

They had to make this quick. No doubt Kyle would be, since he'd been on edge the past week anyways- Stan wondered if he should get off, too.

Well at least Kyle would be quick, because damn he was _loud._

A sigh, a heavy moan, Kyle rocked his hips forward through boxers.

"Off, take them off-"

The taller of the two obliged, stripping out of his own before taking off the other boy's.

Stan let out a shaky breath, grabbing both their half-hard cocks in one hand, and squeezed lightly.

Kyle felt his legs nearly give out from under him.

_"F-uck_ Stan, Stan oh my god-"

"Y-you've got to be quieter," he whispered, as Kyle let out a painfully loud sound- as hot as it was, way too loud for a school bathroom.

"Sh-ut up..." Despite the retort, he covered his mouth with a hand, though coherent moans still slipped through his fingers.

It was hard for either of them to keep their voices down; they tried their best to kiss, long and wet, to keep their mouths occupied but the need for air outweighed their efforts. So they ended up whining and moaning against each others lips, breathing heavy, lightheaded. They still held each other close, Kyle by his hair and Stan by his shoulders, trying to keep lucid mindsets.

"S' not enoouugh," Kyle pined, feeling a heat build in his stomach, but was still unsatisfied. "Shit, it's not..."

Stan bit his lip, releasing his grip on red curls to reach down. One hand for his own, one for Kyle; he quickly molded his lips to the other boy's, knowing the redhead would get ten times louder.

He felt for the tip of Kyle's dick, rubbing two fingers in a circle over the sensitive skin.

"No no _no_ oh _god-"_

Stan kissed him again, the whimpers vibrating past his lips rather than drawing attention to the boy's bathroom.

"Sta-" Kiss. Kyle pulled away sharply, drooling. "Fuck, oh f-_fuck_-"

"You've got to... Be quiet," Stan said with his lips touching Kyle's, forming the words against the others mouth. "Be quiet."

"Y_-you_ shut u-p-!"

The taller boy kissed the other roughly in reply, muffling the loud, wanton whine in reaction to Stan pressing down heavily with his fingers. Rubbing and squeezing with an unreadable rhythm, matched by lewd sounds that made it so very obvious that the boy was enjoying it. And _dripping._

"More..." A gasp, a muffled moan through another heavy kiss. "I'm, I'msoclose _fuck..."_

"Ky, you're making a mess..."

Stan felt a hot shiver run down to his groin, lazily stroking himself as he worked Kyle with more attention. He wasn't even near release- but it was okay. Fuck, no it wasn't okay- he was awfully hard now thanks to Kyle and he would make it up to him later- but for now his priority was his best friend. Who was shivering, nearly shaking, on the point of losing himself...

The boy implanted the picture of his friend in his mind; eyes closed tight, face a nice shade of pink to compliment his hair as he held back gross, dirty sounds. Drooling saliva as well as precum, pathetically lost in heat.

"S-so gooood..."

Fuck. He wished he had a camera.

"I love, I love y-you..."

In fact, he did- keeping up his pace on Kyle so the boy didn't notice, Stan snuck his free hand into his pocket to pull out his phone... Made sure the sound was off... Carefully unlocked it to pull up his camera. Making sure the redhead's eyes were closed, he took a quick picture- saved it- and smiled. Kyle would kill him if he ever found out; but for now, and for quite a few nights in the future, it was worth it.

Stuffing his phone away, he leaned forward to whisper into the boy's ear, wanting to drive him over the edge now.

"You're close..?"

The only reply was muffled gasps.

Stan began pumping his own cock again, even though he knew he wouldn't be quick enough to climax with his best friend.

"Seeing you like this, Kyle... It's really hot. No one would ever guess you of all people were fucked up enough to do this in school."

"Sh-it..."

Kyle's legs were shaking.

_"Now,_ I wanna cum- n-now-"

"I know you do."

Stan let out a low hum, letting up on how he was pushing down on the tip of Kyle's cock. He didn't need the pressure now. Lightly placing his fingers back, he sped up the circular motion, barely touching him.

Kyle moaned, loud, _too_ loud, _way too loud._

"Staaaan, fuck me, fuck me, f-"

Stan kissed him hard, wet and sloppy in order to shut him up- nonetheless feeling his face flush at the redhead's heated words.

Kyle breathed sharply through his nose, whines growing higher and higher with each second, building up and up and up- his fingers shaking where they curled into Stan's shirt, knees pressed together, he could feel every nerve in his body tense-

He moaned into Stan's mouth as he finally hit that peak point of pleasure, cumming over his own shirt and his friends hand. His limbs went numb as Stan kept on touching him, fingers up and down his length now as he came down from such a high. Tired. He almost collapsed to the tiled floor.

The taller boy was still very, very turned on- but quickly tucked himself back into his pants. It could wait.

Instead, he turned to let Kyle lean heavily against the wall, grabbing a wad of toilet paper to clean up. First his hand, then Kyle's... No, that stain wasn't coming out. He did his best anyways, trying not to smear it.

"You okay?" Stan said softly, strangely quiet now that it was over. "We were lucky, someone could have heard-"

Kyle swallowed thickly, stopping Stan short and latched a hand onto the others shirt. Still weak from such a climax, but his eyes said everything.

"...Not done?"

Kyle shook his head, breathing heavy.

"Not even close. Grab your bag, we're going to my car."

"Car sex? You sure?"

"I'll clean it up later."

Stan was all for it.

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	5. Home Alone (x)

**Chars: Stan, Kyle**

**Content: Stan's just a little naive. And sensitive. Poor kid. ****Nsfw, bj, not all the way.**

**Length: Over 3,000 words!**

**Warning- obviously underage**

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Stanley Marsh was embarrassed.

He was okay with being pushed around a little, it was normal between them- but he was a bit farther out of his comfort zone than usual now. Maybe he'd been pushed just a tad too far. Because he was redder in the face than he'd ever been in his life, and was worried what would happen if that temperature got cranked too high. He hadn't fainted in a situation like this before.

Yet.

This might be the first time.

"Stan? Are you okay?"

"I-I- well-" He felt ten degrees hotter now. "Not really."

Kyle, sitting between the other boys legs, frowned. Worried.

"Why? Are you alright? Should we stop?"

"No!" A passionate response, soon covered up by bashful mumbling because of the outburst. "I don't really want to stop. I mean. I don't know."

"You don't know?"

Stan shook his head, self conscious of his vague answers.

The dark haired boy sat up from his horizontal position against the mattress, supporting himself on the palms of his hands on clean sheets. Shifting back so he sat against the headboard, he avoided eye contact with painful transparency.

Kyle sighed.

They were both still fully clothed, a tame half hour of kissing and light touching behind them. It was only when Kyle took the step of settling comfortably in between the other 's legs that Stan had begun to show obvious signs that he was slightly uncomfortable with cooperating.

"What do you want to do, then?" The redhead asked, laying down over Stan's body, connected where Kyle laid his chin on his crossed arms over the boy's stomach. "Name it."

"Well..." Stan tried, "That's just it. I don't know what to do. I feel... Stupid. Like I should be better for you."

He felt small. Anxious. Plainly awkward.

"Stanley, shut the hell up, you're already the best for me," Kyle smiled kindly, tilting his head. "Besides, I know things. Don't worry."

"But I want to know things too!"

"You don't have to impress me."

"But- I'm jealous. I want to- to be the one. To do everything, y'know, to 'know things'."

Kyle laughed, a genuine, ringing sound.

_'Things' _was just a vague term both of them used to refer to anything intimate past holding hands. This included kissing, frenching, even just holding each other close in the same sleeping bag during a camp out.

Stan honestly didn't know much past that. He assumed that one time where they frotted in the confined space of that sleeping bag, rhythmic swishing sounds of waterproof fabric against their skin, was as far as it went. That was it. As good as it got.

Kyle was fine to keep it that way- content with the tame forms of affection, he _knew _there was more to try- but it hadn't occurred to him to push Stan into anything new. He was always shy about this sort of thing. At least, shyer than Kyle was. So it didn't surprise him that the bigger boy had finally reached the peak of his frustration, tired of being kept in the dark for so long, wanting _more, _whatever that "more" may be.

"Okay, fine then. _You_ do something."

And much to Stan's surprise, Kyle gave in, rolling over onto his back as an invitation. Confident as he hung his hands behind his head, the boy offered a sharp smirk as he watched his friend's face turn scarlet.

Kyle enjoyed this kind of thing. Making him embarrassed. It was so easy, plus it was so cute to watch him stutter and trip over his own words and actions- Stan was perfect. So in turn Kyle loved seeing his imperfections, on display just for him. And somehow, that made his best friend seem even more flawless, a perfection reserved solely for he alone to witness.

And so Stan was unsure how to proceed. He'd been given the green light, but didn't know how to step on the gas. Engine faltering but still trying, Stan crawled forward, straddling one of the redhead's thighs.

"Kyle..."

"Hm?" Impatient, but trying not to show it out of politeness, Kyle remained still and limp against the mattress. "Come on. You said you wanted to."

Stan swallowed, mouth suddenly dry.

He started simply- sitting up straight to strip off his own shirt, a cold feeling washing over him, despite the blush still radiating across his cheeks. Unbuttoning his jeans. Reaching up to run his fingers through his own hair, gazing across his best friend's form in worry.

He bit his lip, thinking. His dad's old Playboys, other magazines, some toys...

Nothing he'd found had told him what to do in a situation like this. Where to start, what felt good, how to make it comfortable. Just naked girls. He had no _idea_ what to do. And this was Kyle, not a girl in lingerie; he had no idea, _no fucking idea_ what to do _first._ Of course he knew what he wanted to have happen, but wasn't sure how to get there.

Mentally berating himself for taking so long, Stan hid his insecurity by clumsily leaning forward to kiss the other's pale lips.

_Finally something, _Kyle thought as he bit back a laugh, bucking his hips up just once. A smooth movement, fabric against fabric, up against Stan's crotch.

The boy nearly jumped out of his pants. Not in the way Kyle wanted.

Jerking away, Stan almost fell backwards off of his redhead, letting out a pitiful whine.

"Kyle!"

"What?" The boy rolled his eyes, grabbing for Stan's arm so he didn't run away. "You've got to be more forward than this. Come on."

"But-" Stan whispered, nervous-

"Come on. Do something."

"I want to, I want to, I want to!"

"Kiss me again, then!"

He did just that, shutting his eyes tight and luckily hitting the mark of the other's mouth.

_Thank God_... Kyle thought, smiling against Stan's lips and pushing up into the kiss. His being flushing warm with the concept that his best friend was still so shy with getting intimate, and he tried to control himself for the others sake.

Stan didn't want to seem inept. Clueless. Naive. He was tired of it, he wanted to be something more to Kyle, wanted to change that point of view that he was just some innocent kid. He wanted to prove himself. Even though he knew he didn't have to, knew he was comfortable with his insecurities around this specific redhead, he still wanted to do this. For himself, and to make Kyle feel good.

He broke off from kissing Kyle's lips, determined. He got a grip over his own emotions, the butterflies high on caffeine in his stomach, and took a deep breath.

Kyle waited, patient and considerate, keeping his eyes fixed on Stan's even though the other wasn't looking at him.

"Um..." The boy tried to piece together a sentence, the gestures with his hands making more sense than his words did. "Can- would it be okay if I, you know... Or actually, it would probably be better if you... Y'know..."

Kyle knew. But it was fun to tease. Especially when he knew exactly what the other wanted.

"No, I don't know."

"But, you get what I'm-"

"Stan."

"Can y-you take off your pants?" He said quietly, blushing. "And your boxers..."

Kyle was all sunshine and flowers, beaming because of the fact that his boyfriend had worked up the courage to put what he wanted into a coherent question.

"Yeah... Cause you asked so nicely."

Stan almost whispered a "thanks".

The raven haired boy watched anxiously as the redhead followed the suggestion, shifting and shuffling out of his jeans and underwear underneath the other boy's larger figure. Stan was red in the face, watching every freckle unveil, having to bite his lip to keep from gaping.

Kyle laughed.

"So?" Finally kicking his garments off completely, he set an amused expression over his features. "What now, hm? Are you gonna just stare or are you going to do something?"

Stan bit the inside of his cheek, bending low without responding. He was warm. He wanted, but wasn't quite sure how, and so did what he thought was best and breathed experimentally over his best friend's cock.

Kyle jerked, not expecting Stan to be so forward, and shrank backwards away from the hot air over his crotch.

"W-whoa, okay..."

"Kyle..."

Said boy shivered. Sighed. Resigned himself to what he knew would be an amazing feeling, whether his best friend fucked it up or not... Knowing Stan, he had probably done hours if not days worth of research, then waited weeks to build up the courage. That didn't give any guarantee whether he would be good or not, though.

One boy took a deep breath. The other did the same.

Stan started with kisses, light and cautious along the side, butterfly kisses. Soft and sweet. No rush, no urgency, just the two of them.

Kyle tried his best not to flinch, to keep up a stolid, older-acting facade, but presumptively failed. He made a sound along the lines of an airy sigh, but shakier. Losing focus. But as soon as light pleasure began to sway his mind, Kyle felt a warm wave of pleasant longing rush over him; how Stan was being so slow, so gentle with him- how he was doing this just to please him, just to make him feel good. He loved Stan so much; _wow I'll have to make it up to him later, god I love him,_ fuck_ I love him so m-_

"St-!" Kyle's eyes flashed wide, unable to blink or _breathe _for an agonizingly long moment, as the other boy had licked a wet stripe up the side of his cock. And then as startlingly sudden as his voice had left him, it returned just in time for Kyle to sputter a succession of uneven gasps.

"Are you okay?" Stan pulled away, a concerned look clouding over his otherwise lustful expression.

Kyle flushed, embarrassed he'd lost his cool facade in the heat of the moment.

"What do you think?" he mumbled, biting his lip. "Keep going."

Stan exhaled sharply, feeling heat rush through him. It was just like Kyle to act like he hadn't been affected- to push him away just as all boundaries between them were being taken down. Kyle was wonderful that way.

He bent down again with renewed inspiration, wanting to put his friend in an even more pressing position- one that would force him to come to terms with the fact that Stan was actually kinda good at this thing. Kyle held pride because of the fact that he knew more about naughty stuff than the other- but he'd have to give up some of that ego after this. And hopefully he'd be glad to do so. The price was worth the pleasure, Stan hoped.

So he set to work, keeping a hand on Kyle's thigh as he continued with light kisses and licks, tracing circular patterns with his index finger and occasionally with his middle on the skin of the other's thigh. He had read somewhere to pinch every once in a while, but couldn't bear to hurt him. Light squeezing was the closest he got to pinching. And no slapping, never, no way- Stan had no idea why that would be a "pleasurable" thing. He would never.

Soft touches and kisses made a lot more sense to him.

Kyle, on the other hand, was urging for more. His friend was so gentle with him, conveying his own delicate nature through physical contact, and although it was sweet and considerate it just. Wasn't _enough._

"Stan."

Said boy hummed, cautiously kissing the underside of Kyle's cock, nuzzling against short red curls. _Strawberry. He smells like strawberry soap..._

"Hurry up."

"You're okay with it?"

"O-of course I'm okay with it, I wouldn't be lying here if I wasn't…" Kyle rolled his eyes, but the other was too preoccupied with his lower half to notice. "You're just teasing."

"Am I? Sorry, I'm sorry…" Stan sincerely meant it; he'd been caught up with the kissing, how new this was to him-

"Stop apologizing, geez… just hurry up already, you- virgin." Kyle tried to tease him into getting a little mad. Maybe then he'd be a little rougher, just a little.

It kind of backfired, though, only sending a rush of heat to Kyle's cheeks as Stan replied fondly;

"Well, of course I am. I'm only in love with you, right? And we haven't. You know. Had sex or anything, so of course I'm a virgin…"

Kyle smiled, goofy and wide, covering his mouth quickly as Stan saw his expression. He giggled.

"Yeah, yeah I guess you're right."

Stan mimicked the smile, and held eye contact as he went down on the redhead, serious this time. Getting the memo, Stan was more forward this time around. He took the pink head of Kyle's dick into his mouth, sucking lightly; a kid with a sweet.

He took his time, much to the other boy's frustration, barely taking any more than just the head into his mouth. It was wet. Stan wanted to drag this out- the closeness, the feeling. Speaking of. He reached down in-between his own thighs with his free hand, the other still tracing light patterns against the redhead's thigh. Pressing delicately, squeezing in rhythm with how he bobbed his head over his friend's cock, he felt himself grow hotter and hotter. He wondered how Kyle was doing.

Kyle felt like he was going to lose it as soon as he noticed Stan masturbating. It had been good before, scratch that- more near amazing, but now with the realization that Stan was getting off on sucking him off, his tolerance diminished by 200%. He nearly let go then and there.

"Sta- Stan, stop it!"

"S'op wha'?" His mouth was occupied.

"Don't - don't jerk off while you're _doing that!"_

Kyle glared, attempting to keep his act together, at least through speech. Indignant, almost offended sounding when he he really was just embarrassed out of his mind. And as usual Stan saw right through him, continuing right ahead with exactly what he was doing before, mouth and hands alike, because he knew Kyle was getting a thrill out of it.

"Come on, come on, sto-p tha..." He was losing his grip, settling back limply against Stan's pillow. _It smells like him._ Kyle fisted the pillowcase in one hand, the other covering his mouth- "F-uck, stop it, stop it..."

Stan shifted his boxers lower for more ease of access as well as a better view for the other boy.

And upon hitting that point where he felt hot enough to go quicker, to speed things up, to make it even better- he decided to make Kyle feel really good. It was the least he could do.

And remembering all the techniques he'd read so extensively on, just for Kyle, he made sure it was good for him.

And Kyle whined; a loud, long moan.

Stan felt a jolt in his stomach, predominantly as lustful reaction- but also from a pinch of a giddy boyish excitement that he was doing this while his parents and sister were out. He hummed.

"Oooh my g-god, Stan, Staaan..." the redhead sighed, high and leisurely, shaking his head with what little energy he had, the rest of it focused somewhere else. He covered a smile with his hand, bucking his hips up slightly.

Stan let up yet again to make eye contact with his friend, wide eyed and genuinely questioning.

"Yeah? What is it?"

"What the- h-hell are you-?! Why'd you-!" Kyle hissed, annoyed that Stan had taken a break to attempt an answer to his otherwise rhetorical comments. He didn't _actually want _an answer, he just liked letting the boy know he was doing a good job. He grabbed at Stan's hair, threading through and holding tight. "-Stop?! I was almost-"

"Sorry, sorry…"

Kyle made a tinny sound from the back of his throat, fidgeting somewhat as Stan tucked his hair behind his ear, bent low again and sucked lightly.

Stan was proud he could drive the other boy to make noises like that.

He tried again.

"Don't, don't, don't-!"

The dark haired boy considered pulling the same shit he had before, the innocent "what is it?" act, but decided against it for Kyle's sake. He could tell he was losing it. The squirming, the softer sighs- it was obvious to him. He'd seen the signs many times before, had memorized the sequence. First eyes close, then there's the shifting back and forth; small noises, sighs and moans, and then how his body tenses from head to toe.

So Stan knew when to go down all the way, and suck hard as his tongue was pressed against the underside of Kyle's cock, just enough to push him over the edge.

"_Stan_-!"

A high, exhausted whine, and it was over. He tried his best to swallow, but it was awkward and forced. There was rushing to the kleenex box on the side table and embarrassed wiping and blushing. He tried to do it quickly as not to make Kyle feel bad. The boy was too out of it to notice anyways, even as Stan noticed with a flush to his cheeks that he was still half hard, and tried to ignore it as he knew Kyle wouldn't be up for much.

With a final sigh, eyes closed and breathing heavy, the more tired of the two went limp and curled his knees up to his chest, too drained to cover himself up.

"Thank y-ou…" Kyle said warmly, more of a whisper than spoken word.

"What was that?" Stan smiled, falling down with a bounce of the mattress next to the redhead. "I don't hear that from you too often."

"You heard what I said. Not saying' it again." He smirked. "You need some help?"

"With wh-"

"You know what."

Stan's eyes brightened, his grin widening even as a blush returned to his cheeks. He was in luck today.

"_Yes _please."

"Gimme a couple minutes."

* * *

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	6. Party Troubles

**A/N: hey guys its been a while hahaha how are ya !**

**not a mature fic just silly teenage parties : approx 2000 words**

* * *

It was far later than either of them had planned on staying when they had first decided to go to the party. They'd made a pact at the start of the evening, to stay until midnight, long before the bars closed down, but long enough to satisfy their friend. Just for Kenny's sake, it was his birthday after all, and he'd chosen the place. Even though the club was sketchy and dirty, no one wanted to tell the blond "no" on his birthday. So they went to the dingiest bar in town without much complaint for their close friend- who they'd lost to the crowd five minutes into the night.

Kyle decided- fuck it. Screw Kenny, he'd have a good night without the person they'd come to celebrate with. Whether Kenny was there or not, it didn't make much of a difference at that point. It didn't matter- Kyle was already in the mindset to get drunk off his ass anyways. Eric had challenged him to round of shots straight off the bat, and of course couldn't turn him down. Seven little cups later, both boys were dizzy and they decided to call it off- knowing they'd both claim they'd won by the time they'd sobered up. Which wouldn't be until way, way later...

Stan was nervous. He abused alcohol often, but he hadn't drank to actually get drunk for fun in a while. But even though he had started off slow, it didn't take long for the boy to throw back bottle after bottle, shot after shot, glass after glass. He could handle it. He was proud of himself.

Kenny came back around twelve- and Kyle and Stan had forgotten all about their plan to leave at a decent hour. The birthday kid had lost his jacket and was talking about the present his brother had given him- no one would remember by morning, and would have to ask what it was again.

Bebe was missing now. So was Wendy Testaburger. Everyone knew but no one said it out loud, the consequences of spreading rumors would be disastrous- what with Wendy's boxing career and Bebe's social influence...

Butters almost left the party after he'd realized _"shit I promised my mom I'd help her clean out the garage tomorrow morning -"_ and had headed out to sleep off the alcohol. Kenny really, really didn't want him to go, and had gotten him to stay at the club only through sweet nothings whispered in his ear, and the fact that he didn't let the boy leave the other's side for the next hour.

Butters got a goodbye kiss when he finally managed to escape the party.

Eric and Kyle weren't fighting, rather than talking loudly at each other on the corner of the dance floor. It was only considered a fight after physical contact was involved, which happened ten minutes later, over an argument about who bought the better present. They were drunk, they were looking for a fight -

Eric got kicked out along with a few other kids for getting involved. Kyle just managed to fly under the radar.

Said redhead was touchy and needy when he was hammered. And it helped he was single and attractive. Anyone was willing to give him the attention he craved in his dunk state- unfortunately, Stan was wasn't paying attention- dragged away by Jimmy to play some group game.

Now it was nearing two in the morning, and Stan was tired meant and physically, wanting to find his counterpart and leave.

But by the time the tall boy had managed to get back to the main area, he realized said friend apparently was still quite into the mood of the evening: laughing, dancing, still drinking. Not to mention Kyle was draped all over some stranger and was obviously enjoying it.  
Stan squinted. It wasn't a stranger, it was Clyde, and now the brunette had his hand up the back of Kyle's shirt and Kyle was _leaning in_ to his touch and _hands_ and _lips-_

Stan started crying, loud and obnoxious at the edge of the dance floor, barely even able to hear himself due to the loud music vibrating the entire establishment.

"Ky-Kyle..." he sobbed, wiping various fluids from his mouth, eyes, nose...

Somebody found him standing there, and loudly asked over the music what was wrong. Stan couldn't tell who it was through his wet daze.

"I hate Clyde, look- _look_ at him," he whimpered to his unknown confidant, pointing weakly. "He's doing it o-on purpose, cause- I don't remember..."

"Go tell him to,stop, then, tiger. You're a big kid." It was Kenny, smiling kindly and wiping the salt from his friend's cheeks. "I don't want you sad on my b-irthday," he hiccuped. "What's'e doing, anyways?"

"He's gonna have sex with, with Kyle, look..." Stan whined, sniffing, looking back over to the couple again.

But Kyle wasn't with Clyde anymore- rather, he'd moved on to somebody else.

"Fuck. What... Why?"

"Kyle wav- wants to get _laid_ tonight," Kenny said, let out a long exhale, leaning against his distraught friend. "Maybe more than once."

"No, that's not..!" Stan pouted, flaring a glare across the sea of people. "Tell him to stop."

"What, you don't want 'm to get lucky..?" The blond laughed, punching Stan in the arm- "It looks like he first need much luck, though, does it?"

"Shut up, McCormick," the tall boy growled, emotions flitting from one strong feeling to the next in a flash. He stopped, collected himself as much he could on his alcohol-logged state, and gave his friend an apologetic look. "Ah, sorry. Happy birthday."

"Thanks, big boy," Kenny snickered, pinching the other's cheek. "Whatcha gonna do about all that going on over there?" He gestured towards the general vicinity of where Kyle seemed to be getting the most tail.

Stan shrugged, pursuing his lips, watching silently.

Token wasn't having any of it, laughing and stepping aside for somebody else to take care of the enigmatic redhead- but not before lifting Kyle's chin and saying something awful close to his lips.

Stan was angry rather than upset now- sniffing and glaring across the club, though he wasn't sure who to glare at. The new boy- he couldn't tell who- or Kyle.

Stan turned to ask for advice, but Kenny was gone, disappeared into the crowd again.

So the dark haired boy decided it was time to leave. With Kyle.

Stan waded into the dance floor, refusing to be caught up with anybody else, making his way over to- it was Craig and Kyle now.

"Ky... It's time to go..."

No response, just loud music and movement.

"Ky-!" Stan put his hand to the small of his friend's back now, whispering in his ear- "Lets go..."

Kyle, still with a hand on a Craig's shoulder, leaned back into the newcomer and turned his head so they were awful close-

"Aw, five more minutes daddy..." He mocked, giggling-

Kyle opened his eyes, saw who it was, and seemed to sober up instantly for a moment.

"Stan, uh-"

"We should go home, Ky..."

The redhead had been taken in by the other boy in closer proximity, Craig whispering something in the redheads ear, smirking-

Stan was visibly upset, wrapping his hand firmer around his friend's waist in order to tug at him, urging him away from the other-

"I think we should go..."

Craig cut in, frowning as he readjusted his hold on Kyle.

"Stan, Jesus, you're such a mood killer-"

"Fuck _off,"_ was the simple response he got, snarled by a less-than-joking quarterback. Stan almost felt bad for saying it- but the alcohol was talking.

"What?" Kyle laughed again, leaving Craig to tug on his best friend's collar now, urging the taller boy to lean down. "You jealous?"

_"Yes!"_ Stan pouted, mixed emotions confusing his instinct on whether to cry or to yell- instead he just curled his fingers into his friend's pant loops, making sure he had a proper grip before making his way back across the expanse of the sick floor, dragging Kyle behind him. To somewhere less crowded, less loud, less rowdy. Where he could figure out whether to cry or to yell.

"Stan- _Stanley Marsh!_" The redhead was outraged, stumbling back against the firm hold, but not wanting to rip his pants either. "What the fuck are you- you're going to rip them-!"

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are I swear to god-"

"I promise I won't!" The larger boy opened the door to exit the club, still dragging his friend behind him.

"Stanley Fucking Marsh, let go-" He finally did after being asked to, ashamedly stuffing his hands into his pockets and looking at the ground.

They were outside the building now, the music a dull thrum to go along with the steady bass vibrating the establishment. It was dark as well as vaguely cold, and Stan settled back against the cool brick wall.

He considered his job done- to separate Kyle from those who were shamelessly grinding on him. Now he just felt annoyed and embarrassed that he'd caused a scene.

"_Staaan_."

No answer.

"Staaanley, look at me." Kyle's hands were also in his pockets, head tilted forward as he glared at his counterpart. Slightly swaying under the heavy influence of alcohol, he subdued a wine as he tried again, "Look at me, don't make me ask again, stupid."

Said boy looked up, eyes wide like a kid, entirely innocent as if he hadn't just dragged the other by his pants out of the club.

Kyle laughed, light and airy in contrast to the abyss-like neighborhood that housed Kenny's choice club.

"You're just a big child..."

Stan was still upset, not sharing his friend's attitude, and kept frowning.

"What?"

"Why were you doing that?!"

"Huh?"

"You- y-ou were kissing Clyde. And the other one."

"I didn't kiss Clyde-"

"Well you kissed somebody, I-I saw." Stan was pouting again, and it was hard for Kyle to take him seriously. "Why were you doing that?"

The redhead rolled his eyes, as it was obvious.

"Well, I wanted to sleep with at least once of them-"

Stan was crying again, muffled sounds alerting the other that the bit was trying to stifle his sobs.

"What- what's wrong? Are you okay? Fuck, you drank way too much tonight-"

"You w-were grinding on everybody, tha-at was s-so mean, you're so mean..."

"What are you-? Calm down..."

"You didn't come look for me..! You didn't wanna..."

A sigh.

"Stanley..."

"I-if you wanna get laid, why didn't yo-u just ask me, Ky..? I- I woulda," Stan slurred, swooning slightly, obviously unaware of what he was implying. "Promise, I would've..."

Kyle flushed, more sober than his counterpart, and was actually able to process the words. He stepped forward, brushing his hand against the other's.

"Well, it wouldn't mean anything with them..." He said quietly, looking down to where their hands made contact, slipping their fingers together. "But it would mean everything with you."

"That's right. That's right, they don't mean anything with yyouuuu..."

"And I wanna do it with you but you're not ready. I know you're not, I wanna take it slow with you. _For _you. You're not ready..."

Stan was mumbling, leaving heavily against his friend, unable to understand a word the other said at this point.

"I'm _always_ ready. I'm the captain. I'm the hero."

"Yeah, you're the hero..." Kyle smiled, knowing this oversized child was his responsibility for the remainder of the night. "I'm gonna get you home."

"Yeah I wanna go home, Ky, I wanna go home." Stan was talking overly loud now, and yawned obnoxiously, draping his bigger arms over the other's shoulders with clumsy ease. "Kyle, you're like, _so_ good. You're the best. You're like my best _best_ friend and I _love_ you."

"Be quiet, silly..."

The smaller boy giggled, pulling Stan down to touch noses for a moment. Smirking and leaning forward quickly, Kyle tasted the sting of alcohol on the other's lips as he pressed forward into a chaste kiss.

_"Kyle,"_ Stan whined, pouting almost automatic after the other pulled away. "Why can't you kiss me when 'm _not_ drunk?"

"Cause then you'd remember it, dumbass..."

"But I wanna renderer it. _Remember_ it. Ky..."

"No sober kisses until you work up the nerve to tell me you want them," Kyle said straightforward, waving a finger in the other's face.

"Ok?"

"Ok..."

But Stan didn't look satisfied, pouting still with his eyes wide. Kyle couldn't help smiling.

"What?"

"One more? I-I won't remember anyways."

"Fine, just one more..."

* * *

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